Well knock me down with a feather and call me Mildred, honoured guests and readers, if this morning I didn’t
get tipped out of bed by my wife wake gracefully to discover my wife all a-blither that I had received my first ever blogging award. Toast and coffee (and then more coffee) duly imbibed, I sat down at my battered old laptop to read the latest post from undeniably the greatest second greatest blogger on the face of the Earth, the legendary Becky Delport from I’m just a girl & I’ve had it up to here. Well, bugger me with a sideways baseball bat if she hadn’t gone and named me in her short-list of five winners to which she was passing the golden baton of The Versatile Blogger Award.
Firstly, a little about the award. It is awarded to bloggers who are capable of writing about a diverse range of subjects and topics. Once awarded, the recipient must a) compose a short dedication to the person who awarded them the award, b) write a list for their readers detailing things about themselves their readers don’t know, and then c) pass the love forward to five bloggers that they feel deserve to receive it too. Only too glad to take recognition and credit without having to pay money, I hereby graciously accept my dubiously-earnt award, and here follows my attempt to fulfill my obligations. Gushing Kate-Winslet-style-acceptance-speech circuits – ENGAGE!!!
My Award Nominator.
Step you forward into the spotlight (no, not a police helicopter this time..) young Becky, the true Queen of the Jungle, the Thriller from Manila, the Rumble in the Jungle, the King of Swing, the … er…. Nutter from Nelson. Since day one of my short but incandescent rise to the heights of blogging glory, Becky has been by my side. Or more accurately, one step behind me where she can keep an eye on me. A one woman tirade of filth-drenched venom and un-channeled hatred, Darth Delport has been one of my more regular commenters and has served as a constant reminder to me that yes, I CAN get away with that thing I just blogged about because Holy Handjobs look what SHE just posted about. My virtual online yardstick for the measurement of smut and grossness, this woman has single-handedly led my way into the darkness of blogging territory like a shining beacon of inappropriate behaviour. She herself is a perfect example of a versatile blogger – she can talk about piss, faeces AND excessive drinking all in one post. She has a frankly encyclopedic vocabulary of swear words and descriptions for genitals, some of which she must surely be making up on the spot, and her scathing wit cuts deeper than a jittery mugger post-crackpipe.
But on an equally more serious note, she was also one of the first people to encourage me, to tell me that my writing made her laugh, to prompt and inspire me to unchain the dark little daemons in my brain and let them loose on a page. She has befriended me outside the world of WordPress/Blogger, we have exchanged funny Facebook statuses, emails and Tweets, and she has proved to be a thoroughly nice and approachable (from the front, with slow cautious movements) lady I am now proud to call a friend rather than an online acquaintance. One day when we rule the world side by side as blogging giants, our finances will allow us to meet face to face. Or, given her stature, face to man-nipple. On that day, since she most charmingly refers to me as her twin with a penis, we shall see if the same person meeting themselves due to a time/space continuum flux really does result in the apocalyptic and instant destruction of time itself. (Ask a geek.) If not, we will attempt to recreate that scene via the medium of alcohol. Becky, if I was going to get this award from anyone, I’m chuffed as nuts its from you.
Some shizzle about my bizzle you never knew:
Funnily enough, Bex asked recently on one of her posts in the comment section if anyone had any ‘special’ talents. Some of them made her blog comments, and so if you read her stuff you may recognise a couple of these – sorry for any repetition involved. If you DON’T read Bex’s blog, this will all be new, but I don’t care, because if you DON”T read Bex you are an asshat.
1. I know more god-awful jokes than anyone you know. Full stop. Test me if you like, but don’t complain about the consequences. My father when I was a child bought me a book called “100,1 Jokes for Kids”. I memorised it from cover to cover. So he bought me “Another 100,1 Jokes for Kids”. I memorised that too. By my reckoning, by the time he realised his mistake, I had over 10,000 jokes memorised that even a five-year old will groan at. If you couple that with all the rude, racist and downright ugly jokes I have memorised over the last twenty years, I have enough material to hold down a Saturday night HBO series for the next fifty years.
2. I have, for some unknown reason, very flexible joints. This is not a critique of my rolling skills, but a reference to the fact that my body will contort into positions that would literally break an ordinary human. I can turn my feet around so they point backwards whilst I point forwards, and can pop out my shoulder blades and use them to carry a can of beer. Find THAT sucker, nightclub bouncers. I can make one eyeball look left while one looks ahead, and can bend both of my thumbs onto the backs of my hands. Here I am giving myself a round of applause for my new blogging award….
3. My favourite food EVER is the Brussel Sprout. Considered by some to be hard vegetable-based proof of the existence of Satan, and responsible for more foul wind than a down-wind gust from Chernobyl, I would carve up some fool to get to a plate of these suckers first. On one Christmas when my Grandmother cooked for us, she bought two 2 lb bags of sprouts. One for my family of six, and one for me. No lie.
4. I am an amateur guitar-player with an obsession for buying guitars. I believe at this point, without making a roll-call, I have trimmed the collection down to about a dozen, and the joys of my collection are Jayne (a relatively cheap but sexy sounding Epiphone Les Paul Goldtop copy named after Jayne Mansfield the icon, because she is blonde with a big shapely bottom), and Jezebel (a Fender custom-shop Stratocaster in SO-CAL Custom Shop colours, named by my wife because she is the scarlet lady trying to lure me away from my wife all the time!!) Jezebel also has an illustrious and proven history (all documented on paper) …. she was once owned by one of my heroes, the mighty Joe Walsh of The Eagles.
5. I read books like a fat kid devours cake. I can read an 800-page novel in less than a day, and when The Times (posh British paper fyi) recently published a list of 100 books we should all have read, I’d already done about 80+ of them. I read everything from crime drama (Jeffery Deaver, Tess Gerritsen) and horror (Steven King, H.P. Lovecraft) to fantasy (every damn thing, including the Lord of the Rings ten times, and I don’t even skip the tricky bits).
6. I am an enormous music fan. ENORMOUS. I love that word. ENORMOUS. I constantly drive my wife mad by naming a song from the opening chord, kick-ass at pub quiz intro rounds, and my tastes are ridiculously diverse. I’m currently listening to Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band as I type, but it could have been anything from Billie Holiday to Lamb of God. From Tom Waits to Queen. From AC/DC to Hayseed Dixie. I just love music. If I had to be a chef in a kitchen without at least a radio, I’d knife someone.
7. I have had cause in the past to sign the British government’s Official Secrets Act. But I can’t tell you all why. Clue is in the title.
8. In my spare time, I’m a fire-eater. Yes, a real honest-to-god flame-spitting lunatic. Admittedly, if this is news to you, you’re obviously not reading my older articles. You can’t be bothered to look??? Ok, ok, it’s here. Honestly – slackers.
9. I once memorised a whole Shakespeare speech for my Theatrical Studies class, aged 15. Now, some twenty years later, I can still recall it word for word, and enjoy drunkenly screaming it on occasion at the top of my lungs. Man, do I know how to have a wild time. If you care, it’s Henry V, Act Three, Scene One – the battle of Harfleur. It starts from “Once more unto the breach, dear friends….” and ends at “….cry God for Harry, England and St. George!!!”
10. I’m over-generous to a fault. I am often mistaken for a doormat. By other doormats. I give change to beggars. I put money in busker’s hats. I donate to charity on a monthly basis. I would lend my good friend Jody £50 for a hooker, then explain to my wife why we had no groceries for a week. If Bex and I were ever to be pooing in adjoining cubicles, I would give her my last sheet of bog paper. Mainly because she has a much bigger ass.
Spreading the Love – 100% disease-free.
And so to the five bloggers I
must choose to nominate for this award. Writers who have tickled my funny-bone, massaged my ego, and done highly inappropriate things to me in the laundry cupboard. Here follows a brief description of each – if you love bloggers as much as I do, please go and read a few things by each of these people – they’re on the list for a reason.
Jody Neil Ruth – I can’t NOT mention Jody. Without his legendary Facebook statuses, I would never have been curious about what this ‘blog’ thing he wrote was. Without that, there would be no Assassin. The glorious outlet of my writing would never have been discovered, and I would still be
torturing cats to death slowly watching TV for entertainment. You saw above that I love H.P. Lovecraft?? Jody just became a published author with a short story in a book dedicated to Lovecraft. I’m wetting myself waiting to read it. He’s mid-writing on a zombie novel, is growing a moustache for Movember and is participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) where he is attempting to write 50,000 words in less than a month. Versatile blogger award?? Owned.
Wag The Dad – this guy is all kinds of different flavours of funny. Writing about real-life trials and tribulations of parenting and work, I first discovered him via a wonderful article on porn film titles including musicians names. (Still inordinately proud of Johnny Cash – The Man in Blacks). He was the first blogger to feature a submission of mine in one of his posts (albeit a VERY small one) and was kind enough to offer me some words of wisdom from a more seasoned veteran about my own blog. His blogging frequency and high standard of content put most of us amateur writers to shame. Shane, I salute you.
Radventures – This man, dear readers, was my first ever blog-worship moment. I hung off his every word, and genuinely got excited by emails about new posts from him. His post about explaining Snoop Dogg’s ‘Gin and Juice’ to his mother literally made me cry with laughter. All of which pales into comparison to the fact that he wrote a blog about ME!! Well, one of my comments to one of his frankly excellent posts, but it grew a life all of its own and led to the epic three-way worldwide rap battle comments section where I met a certain Becky Delport. But since this paragraph is about him, it would be churlish of me to include any kind of link to it here. Roy, the mad scientist behind Radventures, has been absent from the blogging world for a while but I spoke to him recently and discovered that this is not because the authorities caught up with him finally, but simply because of a high ‘real’ work load, and he plans a triumphant return soon. Second coming of Jesus Christ, get back to second place, Roy’s a-coming…..
Tazer: Warrior Princess – I love nothing more than randomness and eccentricity. Which is why I love Tazer so much. A cripplingly funny wench, her posts are not so much versatile as scattered all over the place like the remnants of a literary hand grenade. She has some great real-life pictures to accompany her (often wildly drunken) escapades, and is single-handedly responsible for circulating a picture of my wife’s breasts on the internet. She probably still owes me money for that somehow, but I’m too scared to ask her for it. It takes a special kind of woman to have a late-night conversation with you about the relative merits of uses for Rohypnol. The fact that both Becky and I nominated her for this award should tell you something. Even if that something is ‘Approach with caution. Do not get wet or feed after midnight.’
Poverty and Death – the woman who writes this blog became a firm friend of both my wife and I recently. We’ve chatted online via video-calling, and she is one very funny woman. Her main skill lies in being simultaneously scathing about the kind of dead-beat wannabe losers she ends up dating, and about herself for constantly falling for them. She writes, she raps, she falsely advertises on dating websites and posts their responses in a blog. I so wish I thought of that idea first. All of this she does whilst juggling being a single parent to autistic children, a super-mom domestic goddess, and a fount of juicy gossip about her ghetto neighbourhood. She’s relatively undiscovered at the moment, and like me is a total narcissistic whore for blog hits and comments, so please pop over and tell her I said hi.
Well, in closing I’d like to thank my manager and my agent, for being non-existent and therefore not raping my bank account, I’d like to genuinely thank my family – my parents, my sister Helen and my beautiful long-suffering wife Emily – for supporting me in this crazy hobby of mine, and all of you shiny happy people for continuing for some unfathomable reason to return and read my own stuff. I promise I’ll try to be at least half as funny as these guys as long as you want to keep reading. I’d like to finish by going back and thanking Bex one last time as well. For being cripplingly funny every single time she posts. For nominating me for this wonderful and gratefully received award. And for saving me the trouble of coming up with something to write about this morning. Fair Dinkum, Cobber.
The Assassin x